The Mirage Read Free Page B

answer and insisted that my grandfather come in with him. Against his will, he surrendered to the younger man’s wishes, and as dawn’s blue threads began mingling with the darkness, the two of them made their way together to the reception room.
    Ru’ba Laz threw himself down on a chair, then drew my grandfather toward him and sat him down on a seat near him. Before long his silence had left him and he was overcome with agitation and emotion. With a heavy tongue loosed by a combination of alcohol and anguish, he said, “Did you see how those rascals punched and slapped me? Do you see what an insult this is to my dignity? After all, I’m Ru’ba the son of Laz, denizen of this old, venerable residence! That’s the world for you, Uncle. But why should I call you my uncle? I’m over forty years old now, and you’re barely over fifty, so it would be more fitting for me to call you my brother. But I call you my uncle out of admiration and respect, since you’re like a father to me. May God forgive me—you’re greater and more venerable even than that! Pardon me for the things I’m saying. After all, words are trivial things. As for being kicked by a gang of thugs, it’s a serious matter, wouldn’t you agree? My father died angry with me, and they say that no one who’s been deprived of his parents’ approval will ever achieve happiness. Is that really true, Uncle? Even if one of those two parents was my father? Lord, I’m fed up with this world. It’s nothing but fever, delirium, and madness without end. Oh, what I’d give for calm and peace of mind. Isn’t this what they call regret? Give me your hand, Uncle, and let’s swear by this new morning to make a new start, without wrongdoing or debauchery. Send me my wife and children and let my family live with me. Please!”
    His eyes grew redder and redder until my grandfather thought he was weeping, and he felt he had no choice but to comply with his request. By the time the Victoria took off with him in the direction of Manyal, the streets had begun filling little by little with people coming out in pursuit of their daily bread. As the carriage moved along, he closed his eyes with satisfaction and thought at length about the matter. He wanted to see his daughter become the mistress of a household of her own. That very month, my mother was sent back to her former husband and the family was reunited. However, this new life only lasted for two weeks. In fact, it may not have lasted for more than a single day. As for the remainder, my mother endured it patiently until, fearful that the wild drunkard might do harm to her two young children, she picked them up and fled back to my poor grandfather. In a violent rage, he betook himself forthwith to the phony repentant and raked him derisively over the coals. Ru’ba Laz listened to him in silence. Then he told him that his wife was to blame for not wanting to live with him, and that his only fault was that he got drunk. My grandfather took leave of him in a miserable state, divorce certificate in hand.
    It was then that their married life ended once and for all, and I was the fruit of that bogus repentance. My grandfather once said to me jokingly, “You came into this world on account of my stupidity and no one else’s!” Many indeed are those who have come into this world on account of stupidities.
    I grew up in my grandfather’s house, which was the only home I ever knew. In fact, the only family I knew was my grandfather and my mother. By the time I was old enough to be aware of what was happening around me, my fatherhad reclaimed my brother and my sister and my grandmother had died. I only learned that I had a father based on the things my mother said about him in bitterness and sorrow, and my hatred for him grew with the passing of the days. Then, as if he hadn’t been cruel enough to my mother already by taking back his son and daughter, he prevented them from seeing her. Year after year passed without her